The underground VIP garage is damp and smells of exhaust and old concrete.
Katerina walks quickly, her heels clicking against the pavement. She pulls her keys from her purse, pressing the unlock button. A black SUV flashes its lights fifty yards away.
A sharp, terrified scream echoes through the cavernous space.
Katerina freezes. The sound of a child in pain bypasses her brain and strikes directly at her maternal instincts. She ducks behind a thick concrete pillar, peering into the dim light.
Near the exit ramp, a gray, unmarked van is idling. Two massive men wearing black ski masks are dragging a small boy toward the open sliding door.
The boy is kicking and thrashing. The overhead fluorescent light flickers, illuminating the side of the boy's face.
Katerina's breath stops.
The dark hair. The straight nose. The exact curve of his jaw.
It's Leo.
Her mind registers a split-second flash of something wrong-the boy is wearing a formal navy suit, not Leo's usual clothes-but the fluorescent light cuts out again, plunging the van into shadow, and she doesn't have time to think. In her mind, the men are shoving her entire world into that van.
A blinding, roaring rage erupts in her chest.
She kicks off her stilettos. Barefoot, she sprints out from behind the pillar.
One of the kidnappers is pushing the boy into the backseat. Katerina uses the hood of a parked sedan as a springboard. She launches herself into the air, her leg swinging in a brutal arc.
Her shin connects with the back of the kidnapper's neck with a sickening crunch.
The man grunts and collapses face-first onto the concrete.
The second kidnapper spins around, his eyes wide. He pulls a serrated hunting knife from his belt and lunges at her.
Katerina sidesteps the blade. She grabs his wrist with both hands, using his forward momentum to twist his arm violently behind his back. The bone pops. The knife clatters to the floor.
She drives her elbow into his throat. He drops to his knees, gasping for air, clutching his crushed windpipe.
Katerina dives into the back of the van. She grabs the terrified boy, pulling him tightly against her chest.
"Leo, Leo," she gasps, her voice breaking as she switches instinctively to Mandarin, the language she always used with her son in their most private moments. "Are you hurt? Let me look at you."
Julian is completely frozen. He stares at the beautiful, frantic woman holding him. He doesn't understand the language, and he has never, ever been hugged like this. He stays completely silent, his body stiff.
The sound of shouting and heavy boots echoes from the stairwell entrance.
Katerina assumes it's more kidnappers. She scoops Julian up, holding him tight, and sprints toward her black SUV.
She throws him into the passenger seat, slams the door, and jumps behind the wheel. The engine roars to life. She slams her foot on the gas. The SUV tires squeal, burning rubber as she smashes through the wooden exit barrier and speeds out into the Manhattan traffic.
Ten seconds later, Cayden bursts into the garage, a dozen armed men behind him.
He sees the two groaning men on the floor and the empty gray van.
"Where is he?!" Cayden bellows, grabbing a security guard by the collar.
"Camera room! Now!"
Cayden storms into the security booth. The guard scrambles to rewind the footage. The screen is grainy, the angle poor.
Cayden watches the footage. He sees a woman in black clothes and oversized sunglasses take down the two men with lethal precision. He watches her grab Julian, put him in a black SUV, and speed away.
Cayden hits the pause button. He leans in, his nose almost touching the monitor. He stares at the black tailored suit the woman is wearing.
It's the exact same suit the doctor, Astrid, was wearing under her lab coat.
Cayden's fist slams down on the glass-topped desk, the heavy surface shuddering under the violent impact.
"It was her," Cayden snarls, his eyes burning with a murderous, unhinged light. "The doctor. She orchestrated the whole thing. Find that black SUV. Bring her to me alive. I'm going to tear her apart."
